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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26708452">Beetle Bug and Black Panther</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyAreaSystem/pseuds/jaebirdbluetheawesome'>jaebirdbluetheawesome (GreyAreaSystem)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Jae Does Maribat [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types, Maribat - Fandom, Miraculous Ladybug</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - No Kwamis, Beetle Bug is a tech-based vigilante, Black Panther is her Man In The Chair, F/F, F/M, Gang AU, Max is Black Panther</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:40:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,449</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26708452</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreyAreaSystem/pseuds/jaebirdbluetheawesome</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Marinette's friends have lots of funny names for Marinette Tower, seeing as it is all glass and perfectly cylindrical.<br/>'Are you headed to The Sparkly Paper Towel?' Alya might ask. 'Sorry, can't make lunch, I have a meeting at The Over-Glorified Toilet Paper Roll' Chloe might have to regretfully inform a potential client. But mostly, they call it The Tube. Because, you know, it looks like a tube. Also, it's the HQ for her internationally renowned business, of which she is the Co-CEO with her obnoxious (see: beloved) brother Adrien.<br/>She met Adrien when he refused to take a side in his parents war.<br/>His mother headed one gang, his father another. You could say it was a... nasty divorce. But it's ok. Adrien may be the abandoned child of two insane mobsters, but she's never been scared of what trouble being his adopted sister might her into. Why? Because she's Beetle motherfucking Bug, bitch, and she's been kicking his parents asses for years now. Nothing Gabriel or Emilie scares her anymore.<br/>Bruce Wayne asking her to make a house call on the other side of the planet? That... might be a little scary.<br/>Fortunately, Red Hood seems to like her. And is willing to let her forcefully give him a costume change.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir &amp; Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire &amp; Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug &amp; Max Kanté, Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug/Jason Todd</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Jae Does Maribat [12]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1877605</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>288</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Beetle Bug In Gotham</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Literally JUST NOW realized I had multiple jasonette's and posted NONE of them.<br/>So here you go.<br/>A jasonette.<br/>Ta-Da.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>She was late to a meeting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was late to her meeting with the head of Pegasus Tech, but that was ok. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max probably was rushing to finish an idea of his own anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They hardly ever met up when they said they would, and quite frequently just showed up whenever convenient since schedules meant nothing to them any more. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She needed to grab a folder from her office she had forgotten the night before, and her large office was on the 78th floor, quite tragically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She seriously needed to invest in adding her own private elevator into the side of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Marinette </span>
  </em>
  <span>tower. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, Miss Dupain-Cheng!” One of her assistants smiled warmly at her as she passed them in the hallway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning to you too, Develine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Todd and Mr. Drake are waiting for you in your office, if you don’t mind entertaining them for a few minutes.” Delevine called over her shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for the heads-up, Dev.” She went to push her way into the door, when an alarm went off on her phone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max’s attack alarm. A.K.U.M.A</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Hawks were at it again, causing trouble in her city. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Go see Jason… pick a fight with a gang… Jason… gang… </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gang eventually won, and she excused herself to handle something real quick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had a different assistant go talk to them instead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had business to take care of. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>She climbed to the roof, and double tapped her thick-rimmed large square glasses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They went from clear to black in a second, Bug Mode activated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“T.I.K.K.I., spots on.” She said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The red backpack with her company logo on it peeled itself apart, assembling like armor all over her body. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A red helmet assembled itself over her head, large panels attaching themselves to her glasses to make the illusion of large black bug eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The company log was replaced by a cartoon ladybug across her back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grabbed her grappling gun and soared through the sky as Beetle Bug, waiting for Black Panther to come online and give her some details. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wait, no, we need to back this story up a bit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ok, maybe more than a little bit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>We need to back this story up </span>
  <em>
    <span>a lot</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Max Kanté loved spy movies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a commonly known fact among all of his classmates. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was obsessed with all of the gear they used, and in all the fun ways. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Marinette Dupain-Cheng loved Superhero movies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was</span>
  <em>
    <span> very</span>
  </em>
  <span> obvious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She learned from a young age how to do all the stunt tricks in every movie she watched. Well, as many as possible, anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So everyone knew they would make a good team some day, the man in the chair and the over-eager kid willing to follow his commands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They figured they would be a cop and dispatch combo. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was the realistic idea, anyay. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No one expected them to </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually </span>
  </em>
  <span>become the hero and the hacker. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I made something.” Max showed her eagerly. She peered into his backpack and saw a new updated version of Markov. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grinned at the little thing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, you’re getting pretty good at this.” She looked at him sheepishly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, Marinette, you know how you kinda like to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want to be my man in the chair?” She cut him off. He grinned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was starting to think you’d never ask.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ok, what are we doing for a design?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think something black and red.” She nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like a Ladybug?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, like a Ladybug. But without the polka dots.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool.” They came up with a rough sketch: Black spandex exposed through cracks in a red armored suit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>‘Cracks’ being through the space left for joint movement, there was no armor covering her elbows or knees, and minimal attachment over her shoulders for best movement. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, but we need to put some cool gadgets incorporated into this thing.” Max pointed out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.” She put a screen on her right forearm, for running scans and accessing things. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And we need a communicator.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And a face-screen, like Iron Man has.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That can go in the big bug eyes.” She nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you need a tactical belt!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do. What are we putting in it?” They came up with all kinds of ideas and plans, Max throwing together sketches of technology blueprints, Marinette making them fashionable. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>All through highschool, they planned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They planned and plotted, it was what they did best. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not only did they plot how to become superheroes, no, they plotted how to build the </span>
  <em>
    <span>perfect</span>
  </em>
  <span> civilian disguise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette put her talents as a fashion designer to good use, and planned on starting up her own company in fashion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Max went with a tech company. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And all of their plotting paid off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette worked extra hard in high school to get her name out there ahead of time, and Max graduated early from MIT with two PhD’s. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Over the summers, he worked online all day every day, and doubled it to four.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She still had no idea how he did it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They regrouped back in Paris, now four years after highschool, and began the next phase in their plans. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Become flirtatious billionaires so no one would suspect them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yeah. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was their plan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their perfect plan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their perfect flawless plan that could not possibly go wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their perfect flawless could-not-possibly-go-wrong plan that </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking worked</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> fucking worked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinette started her company </span>
  <em>
    <span>Marinette</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and Max started Pegasus Tech. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both worked out of ridiculously huge towers, their own offices both high in the sky with clear views of Paris, looking out over the people they swore to protect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Especially from the Hawks and the Peacocks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who on earth named a gang the Peacocks, anyway?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was a ridiculous name for a gang. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Anyway, now you’re all caught up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh shit, I forgot about Jason. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nevermind, you aren’t caught up at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Let me go back and start again, </span>
</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason Todd swore he fell in love with her the moment he saw her walking down the street. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was ridiculous to say, but he felt as though it was true. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Who would love a random stranger on the side of the road?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Red Hood, that’s who.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice jacket.” The vigilante nodded at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was wearing a red leather jacket that had black spikes on all the seams. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And a black band tee and a pleated skirt and black leggings with dark rose patterns on them, and platform spiked boots.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The kicker was the red shelled backpack on her back, with a fancy designer logo on it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” That was when he noticed she was wearing sunglasses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At night. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the pitch black. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And she could </span>
  <em>
    <span>see</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He could tell she could see because she was looking at all different kinds of things, reading stickers slapped to mail boxes as she walked, looking down and checking her phone, looking at street signs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Red Hood, right?” She looked over at him as she let him follow her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup. And you are?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“None of your damn business.” She said as sweetly as possible. He laughed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have an accent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are you from?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Paris.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah.” He followed her a little farther. “So, what’s up with the glasses?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” She didn’t seem to notice what he was talking about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your glasses are literally </span>
  <em>
    <span>so dark</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and it’s pitch black out here. How can you see?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” She laughed. “It’s Pegasus tech.” She explained. “Here, watch,” She stopped walking, looked at him, and double tapped the side of the glasses. The black faded and he stared into bright bluebell eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were beautiful eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you get Pegasus tech?  Don’t they mostly cater towards the extremely rich and also super heroes?” He tilted his head at her, making up for the lack of having a face to convey his confusion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grinned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, one, Max is one of my childhood best friends, and two, I’m Marinette. Owner and head of the company</span>
  <em>
    <span> Marinette.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I have a contract with Pegasus where I design many of the european hero and vigilante suits.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“How did you get Pegasus tech?  Don’t they mostly cater towards the extremely rich and also super heroes?” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah, it helps I’m not only rich but also a vigilante just like you. But it’s not like I’m letting the Bat know I’m here.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, one, Max is one of my childhood best friends, and two, I’m Marinette. Owner and head of the company</span>
  <em>
    <span> Marinette.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I have a contract with Pegasus where I design many of the european hero and vigilante suits.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Mostly because I’m with the JLE and know so many of their identities anyway, it only made sense I make the suits. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, what on earth are you doing in Gotham?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>want to know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t a guy ask questions?” She snorted at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m here on work business for some guy, apparently he has like a whole bunch of kids, and he, for some reason, needs me to make something for all of them.” It was a silly thing to complain about, honestly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she rarely ever, as in, almost </span>
  <em>
    <span>never,</span>
  </em>
  <span> did house calls. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like, </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Especially not in another country. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But here she was, walking back to her hotel, talking to someone who for some reason was taking an interest in her, thinking about some meeting she was going to tomorrow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some guy, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, some Wayne something or other.” She knew exactly who it was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She just wanted to see his reaction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If at all, of course. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She darked her glasses again, using the technology to scan him for a reaction of some sort. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it was hard to get a good read under all of those layers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gave up on it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh.” He shrugged it off. “So, your friend is Max Kanté, huh?”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>So she was friends with the young billionaire, competitor of Lucius Fox?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucius would not like hearing about Bruce working with her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was friends with the guy who was bad for business. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But this other guy seemed to be really good at his job, unfortunately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, he was one of my best friends all growing up. It’s funny, really.” She gave him what looked like a reminiscent smile. “When I was a little kid, I was obsessed with the Marvel comics, all about superheroes. And he was into spy movies, always trying to copy the gadgets and gears. I was always imitating stunt actors. People thought I would grow up to be… you know…” She looked him up and down. “Like you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And they would joke that Max would be my Man In The Chair, you know?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh.” He hated how he couldn’t read her eyes through the glasses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted her to turn them back off again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he could get in her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But Paris got Beetle Bug and Black Panther instead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, what did you just say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Beetle Bug and Black Panther?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who the hell are they?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Paris’s vigilante’s, well, one of them is anyway.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Paris had vigilante’s?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” She nodded. “We have two, they take care of the gang problems, but we’re only ever</span>
  <em>
    <span> seen</span>
  </em>
  <span> one of them. Beetle Bug does all the field work, and the only reason we even know about Panther's existence is… well, the same way people know about your Oracle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt his breath catch in his throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No one has ever seen your Oracle, but they have heard you talking to them through your coms. Panther is the same way. We hear Beetle Bug yelling every once in a while, complaining about something to some Black Panther, and that’s how we know who he is.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.” He would have to ask Bruce or somebody if they knew of the situation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that he could use a silly gang war as a reason to visit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, you design hero and vigilante suits?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh hallelujah it took you long enough. Come on.” She grabbed his jacket and pulled him towards a hotel. “I’m gonna fix your awful design.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, what? I did not sign up for this! This is kidnapping!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s your saving grace. Shut up and follow me.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next day, she was running late to her meeting at the Wayne tower. She had spent nearly two hours the night before talking to Red Hood, who for some reason wore a mask even under the helmet, and she had spent way too long thinking about him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had a bunch of files she needed to bring with her, and it would look weird if she had the backpack and carried them in something else. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“TIKKI, disguise mode H.” She called out. The backpack whirred to life, reforming itself so it looked like a motorcycle helmet. The bug eyes, made of malleable plexiglass, flattened themselves and connected to become a visor. The plated armor rearranges itself so it was curved to fit her head. The fabric backpack straps became the interior lining, like a soft cushion. “Thank you, TIKKI I appreciate it.” She always was nice to her machines, just in case someone hacked into her gear and turned it evil on her. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Highly</span>
  </em>
  <span> unlikely, but…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just in case. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She put the files in a completely normal backpack, put the helmet on her head, and bugged out. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason was very antsy as he waited in Bruce's office with all the rest of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The others had no idea why they were there, but he knew. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he couldn’t wait to see her again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he heard her before he saw her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had all been moved to a conference room, and they were sitting around a long table when they heard, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I- Ah shit!” He whirled around, but no one was there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then he heard a scraping sound come from the floor, and realised she had tripped in the doorway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh shit, are you ok?” Duke jumped to help her, and Jason had to fight the urge to push him out the way to help her himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah yeah, I’m ok, I just hope the helmet’s ok.” She jumped to her feet, inspected a red and black bike helmet, and set it down on the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swore he saw her apologize to it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was wearing the glasses again, but this time they looked like regular glasses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She also had her hair up into two high pigtails, and she was wearing a pink leather jacket with white sweatshirt material for sleeves and a hood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked like the typical sexy nerd you would see in movies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Plaid mini skirt and all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was so cute. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi!” She waved, looking directly at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He realised he was staring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, hi! I’m Jason.” He tried. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marinette, if it wasn’t obvious.” She giggled, and then introduced herself to everyone else around the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dick made a face at him, clearly acknowledging he liked her, and he glared back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was what they did.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>She fucking fell. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her first meeting with this Very Important Family, and she fucking fell through the doorway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh shit, are you ok?” A guy jumped up to help her, and she scrambled to grab all of her things. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She got pulled to her feet, and she nodded in thanks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry about that, I thought I grew out of my clumsy phase, I guess I didn’t.” She laughed hollowly and looked up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked around the table, and caught the attention of one of them in particular. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh, HELLO Extremely Handsome Man. How are YOU doing today?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi!” She waved at him awkwardly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, hi! I’m Jason.” He tensed slightly as he tried to wave back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pattern recognizer went off on the screen inside her glasses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason had a familiar voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was categorized under Red Hood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he was staring at her, if that was any indication to his knowing her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or maybe it was all a coincidence and he thought she looked nice today. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hoped he at least thought she looked nice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then it occurred to her she should probably introduce herself to everyone else too.</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>She ignored her strange gut feelings, and moved through the meeting as normal. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Discussing shit, planning shit, taking numbers and all that shit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was wondering if there would be time to try and talk to him when everything was over, when an alarm went off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door made a strange noise as it locked itself, and the windows went dark. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She started to panic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was not an ideal time for this shit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then she noticed they were all staring at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What… what’s this?” She asked confusedly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The security system does a serial sweep for bugs every so often. It goes off when it finds one.” Dick stood up, and walked closer to her. Bug? What’s this about bugs? She swallowed. “Why would you try to bug us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t, I, uh, what?” She was thoroughly confused. “Bug… what bug?” Her mind was racing, it was…” She realised what was happening “Oh! I know what this is about! If… sorry, I’m very scared of alarms, could you get it to shut up for like five seconds, please? I promise I have an extremely reasonable explanation. Seriously.” She insisted. They eyed her suspiciously, but Tim, (Tim? Right?) pulled out a tablet and the sound stopped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Explain.” Was all Bruce said. She tried to ignore the look of somewhat betrayal Jason was giving her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, so, it probably senses the helmet.” She was not giving away her secret identity, but she could get damn near close. “It’s Pegasus technology, so it’s… not your average helmet.” </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Jason tried not to look too betrayed as she started to panic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why would she panic?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only people who had reasons to panic did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had a reason. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He needed to know what it was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She struggled her way through explaining that it was the helmet that was causing the problem, but he figured it may have been the glasses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you mind if we have-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t touch it.” She suddenly changed her look from a small scared girl to someone pissed as hell. “Sorry, but excuse me if I just met you twenty minutes ago and don’t want you handling a several thousand dollar piece of gear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s fair.” Tim pointed out. “I wouldn’t either.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can’t seriously-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Paranoid, would you please just let the woman have her crazy-expensive bike helmet in peace?” Jason surprised himself by saying. “What’s the worst she’s gonna do with a recording of her own conversation? Take some extra notes?” He and Bruce got into a glaring competition, but he didn’t back off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard her start to shuffle papers on the other side of the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was almost done anyway, I can leave now, if you would still-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, I’ll take the opportunity to walk out with you.” He stood up, and as he went to argue more with him, but before he could he jumped up and handed her the bag she had come in with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously?” She grabbed it, giving him a somewhat fearful eyebrow raise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I trust you.” He shrugged. “Even if they don’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tim unlocked the door to let them out, and they noticed three security guards on the other side trying to make their way in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Move.” Jason demanded. They looked skeptical, but obliged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Marinete stared at the floor all the way to the elevator.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really didn’t have to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I did.” He cut her off. There was silence for a little longer. “Look, I know about Pegasus tech working with the JLE. Obviously, they trust him, and Kanté trusts you, and that may not be enough for Bruce, but it’s enough for me, ok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She finally looked up at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I… I work for them too.” She mumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah. I know. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Max makes all the gear, but I make the gear </span>
  <em>
    <span>fashionable.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> She gave a small smile. “We can’t have unfashionable heroes running around, now, can we?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh no. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There is NO way she knows… </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unfashionable heroes would be the worst.” He nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So if you’re ever committing crime in europe and someone teases you with lipstick… you can thank me for that.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dammit, why is she so cute.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh I’ll be sure to look out for that. You know, when I </span>
  <em>
    <span>inevitably</span>
  </em>
  <span> commit a crime. In Europe.” She giggled, and pulled her sweatshirt hood over her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They headed out the front gate, receiving strange looks from all the people they passed, and headed out to the nearest public parking, behind the building. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The motorcycle she was driving was not anything like he had ever seen before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he knew motorcycles. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What on earth is this?” He inspected it, surprised by what he found. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was extremely impressed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was pale pink and bright white, matching her jacket. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had never seen such white tires before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wondered how she kept them so clean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, Max went through an automotive phase last year.” She explained as she hopped on, and started it up with her thumbprint. She punched in a password to unlock a screen that functioned as her speedometer, radio, gas gauge, all that jazz. “Did you know I have an official </span>
  <em>
    <span>Marinette</span>
  </em>
  <span> company tank?” She smirked at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have a</span>
  <em>
    <span> tank?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> He tried to fight a laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ok, she was officially perfect. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I do. It sits on the first floor of my building, surrounded by a food court.” She looked at him sheepishly as she zipped her glasses into her pocket, the smirk fading, “You know, the first three floors are open to the public. If you ever, I don’t know, wanna stop by sometime. When I’m around. Come see if I’m lying or not. About my tank.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was this how normal people got asked out on dates?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They got asked if you wanted to see their tanks in their large company buildings?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure. I’ll come stop by and see your tank some time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cool.” She turned red, and jammed her helmet to hide it, zooming out of the parking lot at ridiculously high speeds. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, how did walking her to her car go?” Dick teased him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, it was to her one-of-a-kind motorcycle, and I got asked if the next time I’m in Paris if I would like to see her tank.” He responded, grinning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Dick was thoroughly dumbfounded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I mean, seriously? A tank? What kind of a fashion company owns a tank?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, but you got invited to see a tank of all things?” Dick was still confused about every part of that sentence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah, she said it was in her building, and then said if I was ever around the same time she was that I should totally come and see if she was lying.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What kind of a person uses a tank as a line?” He mumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just excited she used a line at all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, but… a </span>
  <em>
    <span>tank</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish to see the tank.” Damian appeared, scaring both of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck, ya spooky midget.” Jason mumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The tank.” Damian repeated. “I wish to see it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, </span>
  <em>
    <span>first</span>
  </em>
  <span> of all-”</span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>She zipped out of the parking lot, and back towards the hotel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“TIKKI, call Panther.” She said as she made her way through traffic. “And make it soundproof, please and thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Connecting to Panther.” TIKKI responded, and she waited for him to pick up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did your meeting with the Wayne’s go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alone?” She asked first. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, King Monkey’s here.” He responded. They had code names for all of their friends. Even if most of them didn’t know it. “Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Glasses say I may have intel. Ran into a vigilante last night. Pattern recognizer says I might have met him at the Wayne tower today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh dear me.” He sighed. “Well, King Monkey just left for snacks. You wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t urgent. What’s up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the probability the Wayne’s are the Batfamily?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no way.” He took a long breath, and calculated it. “You know, I never thought about it before, but seriously it’s like 98.687%.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks. I know we said no </span>
  <em>
    <span>Beetle Bug</span>
  </em>
  <span> outside of Paris, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t seriously bring two suits with you, did you?” He sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I might have brought the Transformative Reversible Interface Mark Twenty.” She confessed. TRIXX.“I can use it to gather information on the vigilantes from up close, unify the information, and cross-reference it. No one will know Beetle was even here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The chances of you’re identity getting out-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t bullshit me, Panther. I know it’s slim. Extremely slim. Especially if it’s me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it’s also Batman.” He pointed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“True, but… I think I can handle this </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> mision.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you say so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I do say so.” The conversation ended, but she didn’t hang up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, who was it you met?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no, I’m heading for a dead zone.” She deadpanned, and asked TIKKI to hang up on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You wouldn’t even know if-” He got cut off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks TIKKI.” She smirked at nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She walked into her hotel room, ditched all of her things onto her bed, and grabbed the large brown shawl in her suitcase. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“TIKKI, disguise mode B, please.” She yelled, and her suit went back into a backpack form. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She threw the shawl on, and headed for a terrace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She climbed onto the roof, and no one seemed to be looking, so she called out, TRIXX, let’s pounce.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fabric unfolded itself around her, and formed into a bulletproof bodysuit, quite unlike the armored pattern of the Beetle suit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her glasses darkened again, but the frames were tinted orange slightly and now rounded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She took off. </span>
</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who the hell are you?” Red Robin was her first victim. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Red Fox, what about you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh. Names starting with ‘red’ must be a Gotham thing.” He mumbled. “Wait, what do you mean, ‘what about you’? Do you not live here if you don’t know who I am?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” She grinned at him evilly, and produced a bow staff seemingly out of thin air. “That was all I needed.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait a second-” She jumped off the roof, and he chased her for three blocks until she lost him. “Get back here! Who the hell are you? What did you want with me?” She finally managed to get away from him, and snuck off to find her next victim. </span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘No one interact with a fox-themed rogue if you see one.’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Red Robin growled into the comms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Hood was confused. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘She’s gathering intel and I have no idea what about or what for but one can assume it’s not good. She was looking for a voice sample.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Are they on to me?” A girl behind him asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned and immediately put a gun to her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Don’t say anything don’t say anything don’t say anything-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to worry about not saying anything, you know, I got plenty on you. You were the first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She’s bluffing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not bluffing, you can stop making that silly face under there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can see through the-” He cut himself off, and she laughed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I couldn’t, but I could just </span>
  <em>
    <span>sense</span>
  </em>
  <span> the ugly expression.” She teased. “But I seriously wasn’t bluffing.” She played an audio file out of her bow staff. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was from his conversation with Marinette. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been tracking you the longest, you’ve been the </span>
  <em>
    <span>easiest</span>
  </em>
  <span> to follow, honestly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bullshit.” He knew it was bullshit. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you’re right, it is.” She grinned maniacally, and let out an evil cackle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But a friendly evil cackle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If that was even a thing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head at him, and walked away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She disappeared. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scowled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If she was following Marinette too, that was a double problem. </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p>
<hr/><p><br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>She was about to confer with TIKKI and TRIXX when she heard a knock coming from the balcony.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anybody home?” A voice called out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t need the glasses to know it was Hood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason Hood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” She opened the terrace door gladly, welcoming him inside. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sorry.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Just had to make sure you were alive.” He shrugged. She snorted in confusion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why wouldn’t I be?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone… might have been stalking you. Just wanted to check in and make sure you weren’t kidnapped.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Whoops. Sorry about that. You should be worrying about something else entirely. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? Well, Mr. Hood, I do deeply appreciate your concern, but I assure you it is unwarranted.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“One can never be too sure.” He warned her. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>God he is so cute.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you insist.” She sat down at her table, and looked at numbers again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She started to sketch, and he asked her what she was working on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you have somewhere much better to be?” She raised an eyebrow at him. He recoiled slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you not want me around?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, company is lovely, but not when I’m pretty sure a break-in is occurring somewhere. That might be a little bit more important than entertaining me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Right.” He nodded at her before jumping off her balcony. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head at him again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was oddly way too trusting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which was ironic, seeing as it was Red Hood she was talking about. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Digging into the batfam could wait for another day. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was here for a job and she needed to do it. </span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>She had her first fitting three days later, with Tim. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For some reason, all five boys showed up with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I don’t need you four for a few more days, right?” She questioned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have heard you have a tank.” The shortest one deflected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously?” She wondered whether she should laugh or not. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“That’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> what you want to talk about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wish to see this tank of yours.” He was completely blank-faced. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What he means to say is having a tank is very impressive.” Dick put a hand on the small boy's shoulder, and he scowled at the hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Unhand me, Grayson.” He snapped. Dick sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry Marinette.” Jason mumbeld. She snorted as she arranged her supplies, waiting for Tim to come out of the bathroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What I want to know is how you even managed to get a tank.” Duke questioned her. She sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So that’s it? This is the topic of conversation?” She mumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can talk about something else if you want.” Jason quickly offered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh? Oh! No, it’s fine, it’s just… Most people give me a weird look and change the conversation when the tank comes into conversation. But no, it’s fine I’ll talk about the tank.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where did you get it from?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Max went through a phase last year where he made some seriously armored cars, like I’m talking </span>
  <em>
    <span>super</span>
  </em>
  <span> tricked-out cars, and then when he got bored of that, he decided he wanted to very much over-do it, and built a tank, and not just a regular tank, either, it’s a pretty tricked-out tank, it’s extremely impressive, but then the french government caught on and said if he was going to do that he needed to make them for the military, and he got pissed, I mean like </span>
  <em>
    <span>royally</span>
  </em>
  <span> pissed, he’s pretty against that shit, and he didn’t really know what to do with it, so I said I would buy it off of him and use it as a tourist attraction so no one could use it for violence. That was the only reason he didn't destroy it, was if I promised I wouldn’t let it get used for destruction.” They let that sink in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would he build armored cars if he’s against violence?” Damian was confused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because. It’s technology. It’s his </span>
  <em>
    <span>thing</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She shrugged. “One of us comes up with an idea, I make it pretty, he makes it dangerous. That’s been our dynamic since we were little kids. It’s who we are.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh.” She was finally able to work on Tim. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was done fairly quickly, but they didn’t leave as she quickly got to work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I’m done, right?” She laughed confusedly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, do we </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> to leave?” Jason asked, somewhat uncomfortably. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No! I mean, not really, but, um, you don’t have something better? Be to doing? I mean, shit, to be doing?” She sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, may we invite ourselves to be visiting?” She was sure Damian didn’t mean to be sounding accusing, but she also didn’t think he knew much about social skills. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, I guess.” She answered, her voice cracking slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason pulled a chair over next to where she was sitting. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tried not to fidget too much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She got flustered pretty easily. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what happens next?” He asked, leaning one elbow on the table. She took a deep breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I have to take in a few seams, and make sure it all lines up nicely, without making any wavy lines, and-” She rambled on about fashion, trying not to notice them all staring at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wondered if this was payback for scaring them about the helmet incident. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It looked like it was going to be a long night. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You know, we should get your number. Just in case.” Dick said as they were about to leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, sure?” She awkwardly reached for her phone, and fell out of her chair. Duke struggled to hide laughing at her, but Damian snickered loudly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Need any help?” Jason reached a hand down to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe.” She took it anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And immediately hit her head on the corner of the table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” Jason panicked. “I didn’t do that on purpose, I swear, I really really promise, I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> sorry-” She just giggled instead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ow.” She said through tears of both humor and embarrassment. “I’m sorry too.” She stood up, and snatched her phone before sitting down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, don’t be sorry, I’m sorry.” He mumbled, and the two idiots somehow managed to exchange numbers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is honestly painful to watch.” Tim sighed, and they both blushed even harder. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two days later, she met with Duke. And again, five of them showed up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except this time, Damian was replaced with Stephanie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s this I’ve heard about a tank?” She asked, fairly interested. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The conversation started all over again. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>That night, she actually got a text from Jason. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Apparently, he had pulled a ‘don’t want to seem clingy’ and waited a few days. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Hey, when were you supposed to see me again? I forgot.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t forget. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to make sure he came by himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She snorted, and answered him. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Tuesday. At eleven.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Hm, suddenly that doesn’t work for me anymore. Reschedule? Maybe for sooner?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Suddenly, tomorrow night I’m doing nothing.’ </span>
  </em>
  <span>She shut her phone off, and held it against her face as she tried to hide her smile from no one. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Wow what a coincidence I JUST moved all of my plans from tomorrow night to tuesday at eleven. Funny how that happens.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Whaaaaat so strange.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I know, right?</span>
  </em>
  <span>’</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was letting him over sooner. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was letting him come over alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried not to do a little excited wiggle, Dick would be able to just sense it, and demand to join him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> happening. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not if he could help it. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had all of her gear out on the table when he showed up. Alone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” She opened the door wider, letting him in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see you lost your backup.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” He laughed nervously. “Yeah, they were… pretty hard to trick.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awe, you tricked people to come see me?” She batted her eyelashes at him, and he tried to roll his eyes at her. “Now, I do have real work to do. You being able to stay is a courtesy. An invite. I do actually have a paying job, you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes ma’am.” </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>He tried not to fidget as she somehow managed to avoid poking him with pins as she stabbed the jacket he was wearing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would never in his</span>
  <em>
    <span> life </span>
  </em>
  <span>admit a woman made him nervous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ever. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was the suave, sexy, Red Hood, women did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>make him nervous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was preposterous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>How dare you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That is </span>
  <em>
    <span>insulting</span>
  </em>
  <span> to his ego.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And his alter-ego.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Just ridiculous.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Utterly ridiculous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you ok?” She asked through a pin in between her teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine, why?” He did his best impression of himself, pretending she was the ridiculous one, and acting like she was crazy for insinuating he was not ‘ok’. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, well, someone thought I may have been being stalked the other day, and I was just making sure you were ok seeing as I think Nightwing has passed this window about three times in the last twenty minutes.” He was going to kill Dick. “You think I should ask him if he’s ok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do not give that </span>
  <em>
    <span>ass</span>
  </em>
  <span> the time of day.” He grumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, not a Nightwing fan, are we?” Was that… amusement he sensed in her voice?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Nah. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, that asshole? Stole my fucking McDonalds once, claimed hero business was important and he had no cash on him. Literally such a fucking dick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.” She giggled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No way she got that joke. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>None at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like, was it drive-through or the inside? Because drive-through, I can imagine that, but if it was the inside, I can’t really see someone getting away with that…” </span>
  <em>
    <span>No, it was at home. He stole it off the kitchen table. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Drive-through. He just swooped in, grabbed the fucking bag, and zoomed off again.” Marinette laughed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, a hundred percent.” He continued to insist. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shook her head at him while she grinned, and moved in a rolling chair back to her work desk to write some notes down on a piece of paper with some sketches on it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She started to say something, but never got past the first three words when her phone rang. The name read Triple A Battery.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She scowled at it, and then answered. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What, Agreste?” She snapped at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Mars Bar, you know that spring event you have coming up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Think we can invite those guys you're working for right now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh you mean the person I’m standing next to who can probably hear you perfectly fine?” She glanced over at Jason who was pretending not to listen in. He shrugged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No idea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He says no idea.” She repeated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, well, I was taking to Jules, and she said that-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodbye, Ad.” She hung up on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was like her little brother. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An obnoxious little brother, but a brother nonetheless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mars Bar?” He questioned when she was done. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have your ridiculous little brothers, I have mine.” She gave him a slightly amused look, and he snorted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Seriously?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah. He’s like the anti-Damian. He’s aggressively all sunshiney and it pisses me off.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How?” He was trying not to laugh at her. She could tell. But he wasn’t very well succeeding. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He… always wants to see the best in people. Even when they fuck him over, time and time again, even when they hurt people, he still wants to</span>
  <em>
    <span> try</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He wants to give absolutely everyone a second chance, even if they are the</span>
  <em>
    <span> least </span>
  </em>
  <span>deserving person on the entire planet.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh.” She stared at the table in front of her, not really doing anything. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It kills me sometimes. How willing he is to let other people hurt him, how trusting he is, and I have to step in and save his dumb ass from getting himself killed. Or worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But you just picked up the phone like you wanted to murder him?” He pointed out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah because you’ve totally </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> wanted to muder Damian before? Or Tim? Or Dick?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Touché.” He nodded, smirking slightly, and handed her the jacket back after admitting himself for a few seconds. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Before she had put the pins in, he thought he had looked pretty good. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then she re-situated it on his shoulders, and he somehow managed to look better. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t know it was possible to look better. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This mystery woman was insanely growing on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then his turn for the phone to ring. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Roy on facetime. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What, bitch?” He picked it up. “You’re cutting into my Marinette time.” He pretended not to notice her choke on her water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who the fuck is Marinette?” Roy asked, his face not even visible as he did something in the background. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me the fuck is Marinette.” She raised her voice slightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried to keep a straight face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It did not work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Hi mystery Marinette.” He yelled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi mystery stranger on Jason’s phone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Roy.” Jason supplied. “His name is Roy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Well, then, hi mystery Roy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marinette is a… what do you call yourself, anyway? Stylist or something?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Designer.” She answered, the machine whirring to life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it was a fancy machine, so it was mostly quiet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marinette is a designer Bruce hired for a project. She’s making all of us stuff, I had a… I had a </span>
  <em>
    <span>meeting</span>
  </em>
  <span> today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fitting,</span>
  </em>
  <span> dumbass.” She corrected him. “When I make changes to the suit it’s called a fitting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You could call it</span>
  <em>
    <span> a date</span>
  </em>
  <span> for all I care.” He tried. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh shut the fuck up.” Roy complained from his phone. He had half a mind to shut it off. “Marinette, don’t listen to him, he would use a line on a fucking wooden door of he could get away with it.” Was it just his wishful thinking, or did she… seem disappointed?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I am not a big flirt!” He didn’t know which of them he was trying to convince. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut the fuck up!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still need those pants back, Jason.” Was all she said. “Preferable without stabbing yourself, please. I don’t want to have to wash blood off the pins again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Again?” They said at the same time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Juleka got an allergy attack one time during a fitting, sneezed at the wrong time, stabbed herself in the shoulder, bled all over the place. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> fun to clean up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, Juleka Cauffain? Like, the</span>
  <em>
    <span> supermodel</span>
  </em>
  <span> Juleka Cauffain?” Roy noticed her name. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, the one who constantly works for the company, oh, I don’t know, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Marinette?” </span>
  </em>
  <span>She deadpanned. Jason snickered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“OH SHIT.” He realised. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Marinette walked over and took his phone from him so he could give her the pants back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, fashion designer, cousin of the Cauffain’s, and bratty older sister of Adrien Agreste, nice to meet you.” She waved, and he grabbed his phone to actually attempt to introduce himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jay Bird isn’t being too much of an asshole, is he?” Roy asked her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She snorted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I think he’s pretty cute.” She shrugged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No way.” He shook his head. “Jason? Cute? Impossible. You must have the</span>
  <em>
    <span> wrong </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jason Todd.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can hear you!” Jason yelled from the bathroom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No you can’t!” Roy yelled back. She laughed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, you think I’m cute?” He dragged his chair closer to her, finally managing to get Roy to hang up on him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“When did I say that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“While I was in the bathroom, you said you thought I was cute.” She squirmed as he leaned closer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did no such thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m pretty sure-” She gave up the whole flirting thing, leaned back, and sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, I wish I could think you were cute, alright? I really do, but I don’t want to do this shit this week.” He frowned. Do what shit?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p><span>“Look dude-” Oh. </span><em><span>Dude?</span></em> <em><span>Really? </span></em><span>Ouch. “I know your fucking type. Interested in someone for like three days, decide you don’t like the idea of having feelings, and call it quits right as I make the terrible mistake of liking you.” Oh no. </span><em><span>I mean, yeah, *sometimes* that's me, but holy shit. Not </span></em><b><em>this time</em></b><em><span> it isn’t</span></em><span>. “So really, as badly as I want to think that you’re cute, because you really are, I have a </span><em><span>damn job</span></em><span> I’m supposed to be doing and I don’t want you ruining it.” He took a second to read her face. </span></p><p>
  <span>She genuinely did like him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And she genuinely didn’t want to ruin this work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really think that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I mean-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really think so little of me, huh?” He leaned on the table, and tried not to sound </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> pissed about it. He attempted to sound at least a </span>
  <em>
    <span>little</span>
  </em>
  <span> soft. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had feelings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he wasn’t about to go all ‘how dare you’ on her, that would just prove her point. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And being mad at a cute girl for not wanting to get her heart broken easily wasn’t really his thing. He knew she had reasonable doubt, he just had to disprove it. And not be an ass while doing so. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trying to convince someone they were wrong while trying to do something for them tended to piss people off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh come on, you’re not actually trying to ask me if after like five days of knowing you I’d be willing to let you try and go long-term, are you for real?” She raised an eyebrow at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And then what? You have me convinced for what, three days? And then I turn out to be right? You really have some nerve-” He had a thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He cut her off by placing a light kiss on her forehead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That baffled her so bad she shut up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did a lot of research on you, you know.” She didn’t have an answer to that. “I know you like to plan things. You tried to plan your whole life at eleven. And I know you’ve achieved most of your goals from when you were eleven.” She just blinked at him, still confused. “Max, too. He was your planning buddy. You two planned everything together. And you… you like to predict what comes next. It’s your fashion super-power.” She finally unfroze, but still looked confused. “So I bet this really threw off your planning didn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It did.” She mumbled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I bet that little forehead kiss broke your pattern prediction, confusing you, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marinette, I can’t give you exactly what you want from me, because I can’t read your damn mind word for word, but may I please be allowed to take you out some time? Preferably while you’re still in Gotham?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She just blinked at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you do that?” She frowned, still trying to process the last four minutes. “How… what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that a yes or a no?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Oh my god, it’s a yes.” She blinked rapidly, and he laughed at her. “What?” She repeated at nothing and no one, staring down at her table. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Minimal work got done that night, in favor of staring confusedly down at it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know…” He looked up from where he had just been on his phone, “I can leave if I’m being too distracting.” She scowled at him. “Oh goodness, that’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>mean</span>
  </em>
  <span> look.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean on one hand, I</span>
  <em>
    <span> don’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>want you to leave, but also, like, fuck you. I have to get shit </span>
  <em>
    <span>done</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> distracting me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? You want to tell me what </span>
  <em>
    <span>about </span>
  </em>
  <span>me is distracting you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No sir I do not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And why is that?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It would do terrible things to your ego.” She reached over, and booped him on the nose. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He scrunched his nose at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Terrible- what on earth are you- Are you seriously-” He tried not to sound flustered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was failing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was laughing at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god, you are so fucking cute.”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was not cute. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or at least, he wasn’t used to being called cute. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sexy?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Handsome?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All the time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hot?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Quite frequently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cute?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>….Never. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was not soft enough to be cute. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This girl was crazy, or didn’t know the definition of cute. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was probably crazy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re fucking face right now is unbelievalbe.” She grinned down at her project as she did...something. She did </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span> to it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your idea of cute is what’s unbelievable right now.” He grumbled. “Fucking ridiclous.” She just laughed again, trying not to mess up whatever it was she was doing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh it is not.” She insisted. “You are very cute. The absolute cutest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut- Shut the fuck up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I just make you stutter?” She ditched the project completely, turning to face him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Absolutely not.” He scowled. “No such thing.” She snorted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh really?” It was her turn to be the one trying to mess him up. “Because I think the way you scrunched your nose was extremely cute. I think when you stuck your tongue out at your friend when you thought I wasn’t looking was really cute. I think you pulling on your shirt collar trying to hide your red face is very very cute.” She teased him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hadn’t even realised he was doing that last one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let go of his shirt, which he </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> been pulling over half of his face, and tried not to blush. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> really hard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But for some reason… it wasn’t working. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, you know how you wanted to take me out?” She got an awfully suspicious look on her face </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um.” Was all he responded with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think if I asked you to get me pizza, it would count as a first date?” She leaned towards him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” Was all he could come up with. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, usually people try to go all-out for a first date, and if you're one of </span>
  <em>
    <span>those </span>
  </em>
  <span>people, I don’t want to step on any toes, but I really want pizza, and I don’t know where around here is good and I also really don’t want to move.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This girl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sorry, woman. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This woman. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Kid genius and self-made multi-millionaire at 22. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wanted to eat pizza. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In her room at some hotel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a first date.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ok, it was official, he was madly in love with her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Pizza sounds awesome.” He grabbed his phone, and pulled up a webpage to have it delivered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nice.” She grinned, and started to pack her things away. Her phone rang again, and she sighed deeply at the sound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ti…” She cut herself off. “Answer on speakerphone.” She yelled, and her phone stopped ringing. “Sup Queenie.” She said to the phone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re late.” Queenie snapped at her in french. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Late?” She was baffled by this. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, late, to the fucking race.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not even on the same continent as you right now, how can I be late?” She pointed out. “And what race?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone fired up the old class insta chat, and-” Marinette scrambled to grab her phone at that, and he wondered what it meant, “Now </span>
  <em>
    <span>suddenly</span>
  </em>
  <span> it’s let to Alix and Kim trying to see who can still run their old route the fastest, as it has always been, and then someone brought you into it, but you didn’t answer and we thought you were just lurking, and anyway, you’re about to miss the comeback of the fucking decade.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“FUCK.” Marinette swore loudly, in english surprisingly, as she scrolled through her phone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did his best to try and read upside down, but… he had no idea what most of the things they were referencing were, so it was extremely difficult. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything ok?” He asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who the fuck was that?” Queenie asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m calling you back, Chlo, I turned off notifications for this chat years ago, that was clearly a mistake. But bye.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, you didn’t-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh and I’m out of service.” She deadpanned, and hung up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He would laugh if he wasn’t so confused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, yeah, to answer your question, everything is perfectly fine, I’m just pissed I’m gonna miss it. And that I can’t beat both of their asses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alix and Kim were in my… high school? Yeah, that would be high school, they were in my homeroom class, and they had a habit of challenging each other to the dumbest things, but when it came to bigger things, they would actually plan them, and I got pulled into scheming with them quite often.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I know for a fact I’m still in the best physical condition and I could kick both of their asses and probably trick someone into starting a bet and I would</span>
  <em>
    <span> totally</span>
  </em>
  <span> win like fifty bucks out of that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gave her a blank stare. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You own a huge corporation and you're pissed you're missing out on fifty bucks?” She shook her head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m pissed about missing an unofficial class reunion and watching Alix beat Kim for the 800th time, but the fifty bucks would be an added bonus.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are certainly a strange person, Marinette.” He watched her as she went back to packing up her supplies. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I know.” She walked over to the fridge, and opened it. “I’m the absolute strangest.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They found a cute movie, and watched it over pizza.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He got a ridiculous earful when he went back home. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Two days later she got a slightly panicked call from Dick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, I know I was supposed to come in today, with Damian, but I’m kinda caught up with… really really important stuff-” Ok, Nightwing. “-And this is probably the strangest thing I could ask of you, but can you go pick him up from school?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, if you want an eleven year old on a motorcycle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh I’m sure he’d love it, we have a helmet here for him at the manor I think you can stop by and grab it, Alfred can’t go get him because he can’t stay, he has stuff to take care of, and no one else can take the time and-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude, chill, I got him.” She did her best impression of Nino when trying to get her to stop freaking out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the school, I can go get him. It’s not that big of a deal. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh thank goodness, I was really worrying about-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Things happen sometimes man, it’s alright. I’m not a stuffy ass, I can go get a kid from a middle school.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh thank fuck.” She laughed, and wrote down the name of the school. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She found her way to the place he had said was his address, to get the kids helmet, she sure didn’t bring a kid-sized helmet with her, and then off to the school. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are my ride today?” He asked her quizzically. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yup. You get to hang out with me for a little while today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I cannot go home why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got your suit all made, I’m gonna make you look all handsome.” She said to the eleven year old, and he tilted his head. She handed him the helmet to put on his head. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took it, and she fussed with the buckle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can take care of it myself.” He complained. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are a tiny child who is not even mine, I’m not gonna take that chance.” She snapped at him, and tilted his head back to make sure it was stuck on there. “Alright, hop on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tt.” </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Red Hood and Nightwing were arguing quite loudly when they saw Marinette and Damian zoom by them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t just fucking try to</span>
  <em>
    <span> test </span>
  </em>
  <span>everyone I like! Even if B doesn’t like them! That doesn’t make doing this acceptable!” He yelled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just want to see how she reacts to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Being alone? With a violent child?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, basically.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You want to see what, exactly? Does she say mean things? Does she get stressed? Is that what you’re booking for? You want to see if she cracks under pressure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Kinda.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not ok, Dick.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I’m saying it is.” Batman growled from somewhere behind them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hate you both.” He gave them the middle finger, and jumped off the roof. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was gonna ace this dumb ‘test’.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She had to.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You want a snack?” She asked, taking his helmet and sticking it on her suite’s kitchen counter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are there for snacks?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have fruit snacks, and crackers, and cheese whiz, and-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cheese whiz?” He frowned. “What is that nonsense?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cheese in a can.” She informed him, grabbing it out of the cupboard. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Diabolical.” She laughed at his strange vocabulary, and snatched some ritz crackers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here. It goes like this, on crackers.” She squicked some onto a cracker, and gave it to him, then ate one herself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried it, and made a sour face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he ate it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was terrible.” He grumbled. “How much more do you have?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She handed him the whole cracker box. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, you can snack now, but when you’re done, you can’t eat in the suit, ok? We have to be careful, cheese whiz might be difficult to get out of a nice suit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.” He munched on the cheese and crackers, and started to do his homework. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Need any help?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooh, you’re a smart kid?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I like to think so.” She gave a small laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you learning about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Penguins.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m doing a project on the macaroni penguin.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Want to tell me some fun macaroni penguin facts?” He looked at her suspiciously. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll tell you penguin facts if you promise I can drive your tank.” She blinked, and then laughed. “What?” He was confused by her reaction. “It is a good deal!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, kid. Do you even know how to drive a tank?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-” He cut himself off. He seemed to ponder this thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh yeah, this tiny thing is for sure Robin. Especially if he knows how to drive a tank. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I may.” He said slyly. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Let’s see how good Batman is at training him to bullshit on the spot. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? And how would you know how to do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Father has some… interesting friends.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh.” She smiled, and un-crossed her arms. “So if I say you’re allowed to drive my tank for a few minutes, you’ll tell me some fun penguin facts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” He nodded sharply. She wondered where this kid came from. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright. You may drive the tank for a few minutes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you. Now-”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is this what you were so scared of, Nightwing?” Red Hood turned to give him a pointed look. “He’s telling her penguin facts and she’s giving him snacks. And he’ll never get that tank out of the first floor, so what’s the harm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She could kill him…” He argued half-assedly. “Any second now, she could try.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are ridiculous.” He sighed, and went back to watching the scene. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Alright, what else do you need to do? For homework?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to read for ten minutes.” He informed her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got a book in mind?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tempest.” He pulled it out of his bag. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you read it before?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not all of it yet, why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’ve read it, and I’m gonna get you in my suit, and then while I’m working on it, you read for ten minutes while I’m working and to prove you read it you’ll tell me how it goes. Ok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you doing this?” He countered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because.” She shrugged. “You need to do your homework. And I am currently in charge, and as the person in charge here I’m saying do your homework.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tt.” The kid made a face, but complied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stood oddly still for an eleven year old boy as she stuck the pins in, and he read his book as she worked. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Think you can finally go get him now?” Jason grumbled, watching as Marinette animatedly told some story about a runaway train and getting saved by Elongated Man in London. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And then Beetle Bug showed up, which was very odd, Beetle stays mostly in Paris, but Beetle Bug was, there, and she was all like ‘ooh I’m gonna taze you’ and then she tazed the guy, and-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What kind of taser did she use? What was the voltage? What brand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A special hidden gadget invented by Pegasus Tech, it was in the shape of a yoyo, she has a very special yoyo thing, it was probably, I don’t know, I think Max said around 50,000 volts?” She answered all of his questions patiently, not being bothered in the slightest he kept interrupting her.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Interesting.” Damian responded. He did somehow seem to be enjoying himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine.” Nightwing grumbled, and took off to go get his younger brother. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“-So then the guy on the left was all like ‘grrr we’re gonna kill you’ and the guy on the right was like ‘wait a second here, we never said </span>
  <em>
    <span>murder</span>
  </em>
  <span> was on the table’ and then the guy on the left said-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were cut off by a knock at the door. Marinette got up to check it out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was just Dick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She opened it, and let him in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, how did it go?” He asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Yeah right like you didn’t stalk me for the last three hours. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good!” She grinned, and he nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Glad to see he hasn’t driven you crazy, then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” She chuckled. “I love answering questions, I know what it’s like to be the kid no one ever took seriously. I used to get pissed when no one would answer my questions, I’m glad he liked to ask them.” Damian seemed pleased with her answer, as she handed him the helmet. “I wouldn’t mind taking him again some time, he was fun. But I have some serious work to get done, so I’m gonna have to say goodbye.” He nodded, a little disappointed, and she waved goodbye. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks, a bunch, Marinette.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh really it wasn’t any problem.” She shrugged. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>She saw them all again two days later. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You must be Cassandra.” She said to a girl who nodded and didn’t say anything. “I worked on yours the most, the patterns were most difficult-” She rambled on, the girl saying nothing as she produced a… something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a dress nor is it a suit, it’s just kinda something I got bored and came up with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl's eyes lit up when she saw that it wasn’t a dress. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dresses were difficult to fight in, they made her nervous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And had low cuts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This had none of those.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This had a red shawl with black embroidery pattern that went over a black turtleneck-shaped long-steve shirt, with red embroidery pattern, opposite the shawl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pants were the same as the shirt, tight-fitting, faint red embroidery, and were completed with a wide red waist band. They were high-waisted so they overlapped with the shirt, which got tucked in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was made out of what almost seemed to be athletic material, but was still somehow very elegant at the same time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you.” Cass said, not even having put it on yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The others were very impressed with her intuition. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well make sure it fits before thanking me.” She teased, and she took the outfit from her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She headed off to the bathroom, and wondered what they were talking about today. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you know Cass wouldn’t like a dress?” Steph asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She reminds me of someone I know.” She shrugged. “Alix pitched a fit when we tried to stick her in a dress for Nino and Alya’s wedding. It was comedy gold, honestly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cass reminds you of Alix?” Jason looked at her like she was funny. She had told him about all kinds of trouble she and Alix used to get into. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The others were confused at Jason’s confusion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Did he </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> this Alix?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a far-off shot, but yes, believe it or not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But your Alix is so… loud.” He pointed out. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I really don’t know how to explain it. I think… It’s an internal feeling? A gut feeling? Is that a thing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guy’s I think she’s a meta.” Tim joked. Duke flinched slightly at that. “Her power is knowing what makes people comfortable or uncomfortable.” She snorted at that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe, honestly. I’m pretty good at knowing what people want even when they don’t know it yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Must only be a fashion thing, because you sucked at picking up on what I wanted the other day.” Jason grumbled. She turned extremely red, and he realised he said that out loud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jay Bird, you are an embarrassment to society.” Dick sighed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Steph just grinned as she poked him in the ribs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“MOVING ON.” Marinette yelled as Cass emerged, and she got to work. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I apologize for them.” Jason tried to say when they started to leave. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah like you’re so much better.” She teased him. He feigned offense. Or maybe he really<em> was</em> offended. She couldn’t tell. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me? Not so much better? What is this nonsense?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh hush you.” She lightly whacked his arm, and made a face at her. Her phone started ringing, and she knew that ringtone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She excitedly went to grab it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no, look, my phone is ringing, have to answer it!” She said in an overly cheerful tone, and shooed him out the door with the rest of them. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>He read her phone screen upside down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Incoming call from: </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bone’s Malone and the Rattly Bois.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connecting… fox on the run</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connecting… Tortlise</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connecting… Bone’s Malone</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Connecting… The Queen</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dialing… Sword of a Lot</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dialing… Triple A Battery</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dialing… The Multiverse Is A Problem</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dialing… Geneyoose</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dialing… snek</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dialing… superdumb</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t get the chance to read the rest of the names as she pushed him out the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok, ok, fine, we’re leaving. But I won’t apologize for wanting to talk to you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ha-ha.” She smirked and shut the door. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She must have picked up the call because seconds later he heard, </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“-DON’T MOTHER FUCKING CARE IF A SUPER VILLAIN PUSHED YOU OFF THE TVi TOWER YOU LITTLE…” The voices faded out as they walked away. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What do you MEAN someone pushed Adrien off the TVi tower?” Kagami was horrified. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh that was a while go, it hardly matters anymore, and anyway Beetle Bug saved me, so I’m fine, and-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are so stupid.” </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>Over two more weeks of being in Gotham, Jason managed to take her on a grand total of seven dates. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was seven more than she thought she was getting, honestly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So now what?” She asked as she sat on her counter, eating cheese whiz and crackers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now, I go back to doing what I do, and you go back to doing what you do, and make the most of whatever.” He tried. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And what is it that you do? Normally, I mean.” She popped a cracker into her mouth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Travel, honestly.” He shrugged. “Nothing and everything at the same time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh.” She squirted cheese directly into her mouth. “And do you have a job while you do this nothing and everything?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really, I mostly just waste Bruce’s money for the hell of it, it’s not like he notices it’s missing, but…” He squirmed slightly. “I kinda do, like, photography. Every once in a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooh.” She was interested. “What are your favorite things to take pictures of?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Random things, honestly. The things normal people wouldn’t find beautiful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Such as?” He thought for a second. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Little graffiti on the side of a public mailbox. A bent street sign with labels peeling off. Gravestones that have been cracked in half. The skyline from a point of view you normally wouldn’t see it from. A bend in the road that has interesting shadows. A broken guard rail that someone quite clearly crashed into.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh.” She imagined all of these things in her head, picturing how they could be seen as a beautiful photo. “And what do you do with them?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes I put them online, I don’t really know.” He shrugged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have an instagram?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, but… I don’t post to it all that often.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And sometimes I do a podcast. Those are always interesting.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ooh.” She kept munching, already planning on finding all of these things somehow. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pulled out her phone. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are they called?” He tilted his head at her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The insta. What’s it called?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” He told her, and she found it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of the pictures were gorgeous. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are all of these?” She mumbled, scrolling and liking all of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, all over the world. All kinds of places. But oftentimes I try not to post in the order that I travel so no one knows it’s me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do the others know? That it’s you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Cass probably knows, Cass knows everything. Tim, maybe. Never actually bothered to ask.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re kidding.” She giggled, and followed him. “Now, podcast. What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure you really-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tell me or I’ll have Max run audio samples until I get a match.” She glared at him. He caved. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Random Bullshit Over Lunch.” He confessed. She nodded, and wrote that down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A thought occurred to her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, if you ever really were looking for a real job, I know a guy. A guy who would be </span>
  <em>
    <span>all over</span>
  </em>
  <span> this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me guess, Max?” He tried, not really caring all that much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’d get you a bunch of his gear, and pay you to travel to use it and post about it, reviewing it or something, or just run their company instagram with help from PR people.” She shrugged. “Or all of the above. Probably all of the above.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “I kinda like doing whatever I feel like doing, whenever I want to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh I didn’t mean that you have to, and it wouldn’t even have to be now, but if I put in a good word, I just want you to know he’d jump on that in a second.”</span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>He thought about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He really thought about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It seemed like the perfect idea. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that was what bothered him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It seemed a little too perfect. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nothing good ever happened to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why would this be good?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why would he finally start to have something good now?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why was now different from any other time in his life?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why give him such a shitty time, and then have this golden opportunity jump at him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was it to make him so suspicious of it he turned it away and then could only blame himself for his misfortune?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There had to be a catch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There always was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just mean like, if you ever want to, I can extremely easily take care of that. One call and I have you set up with something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t want to bother you with-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Plus home base could be Paris and I want to see you in Paris.” She interrupted him. He looked over from where he was cooking something, and noticed she was blushing furiously. “I would like it if I had you around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, give me a few… a few days. Maybe weeks. Get things set up. And then I’ll look, I’ll think into it. Think about it.” </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He was stuttering again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then again, this was the first time in a long time someone had said they wanted him around. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like, actually genuinely wanted him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was a weird new emotion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t like this emotion. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It scared him. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had everything set up on time, the only one she was missing was the actual Mr. Wayne himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pushed her glasses up onto her nose as she finally met with him for the second time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took everything in her not to tease the man about how mean he had been the first time they had met. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she figured the scaredy cat man wouldn’t take too kindly to that. He wouldn’t like that at all. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wondered what she </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> say. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jokes about Batman were out of the question. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe don’t mention the weaponry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, actually, maybe<em> do</em> mention the weaponry. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So I mentioned having a tank as a joke, and suddenly it’s the only thing they ever want to talk about.” She said as she inspected her work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm.” He answered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damian made me promise to let him drive it some time, in exchange for doing his homework on time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t suggest bringing him to Paris any time in the near future. I don’t think he can reach the gas pedal quite yet.” She tried to joke. “It would be madly discouraging.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Interesting.” Not really, though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her phone went off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, excuse me, that’s my brother.” She answered and tried to talk in french as fast as possible. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He probably spoke french. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘What’s the problem?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Hawks are targeting Nadja.’</span>
  </em>
  <span> She swore loudly, and almost dropped her pin. She continued to work anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Where is Manon?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘The Tube.’</span>
  </em>
  <span> That’s what all of her friends called her building. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a large circular building, and the entire outside was mostly made up of glass, and they all thought it looked like a tube. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>First, they had called the Overglorified Toilet Paper Roll, but that was too much of a mouthful and shortened it to Tube. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Keep her there or at my house until I get back, got it? And help… help out the cat as best you can, ok?’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I’ll try, BB. I’ll try,’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry about that, it was rather important.” She apologized. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the cat?” He asked as a response. She tensed, and he noticed. “Anything important?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A friend of mine is being attacked.” Was all she answered with.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where? By who?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Paris. Gang members.” She grumbled. She didn’t want to not answer him, that would be suspicious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You like questions, Mr. Wayne? Or are you really all that invested in Paris’s gang problem?” He gave her a strange look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If it is a friend, you may want to get this done fast so you can go home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s a reporter.” She supplied for the answer, and nodded her thanks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She needed to get back to Paris. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fast. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can have this done by tomorrow morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good. See to it that you do.”</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>She stayed up all night making sure everything was absolutely perfect, and in the morning, she dashed over to deliver the stuff. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then she booked it to the airport. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her phone went off while she was in the airport. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jason. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘You’re leaving already? And didn’t say goodbye? Rude.’</span>
  </em>
  <span> Yeah, ok, that was true. She had been a little rude. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘There’s an emergency.’</span>
  </em>
  <span> He wasted no time responding, </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘Shit where.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>She wanted to leave him on read. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She really did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But if he really was Red Hood she had no doubt he would bust down every damn door he could to find out what was wrong. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘The mother of a little girl I used to babysit in high school is getting targeted by a street gang. Wouldn’t be serious, but I know they’re not above killing her. I need to be there if something really bad happens.’</span>
  </em>
  <span> She told the truth. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>Her motorbike was taking up most of the aisle on the private plane, but that was ok.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was the only person on the damn thing, besides the pilot. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When she touched down she didn’t go through customs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She zipped off the plane, her suit in helmet mode, avoiding the building all together and headed to </span>
  <em>
    <span>Marinette </span>
  </em>
  <span>tower. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jason.” Bruce acknowledged him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” He answered not really coldly but mostly uncomfortably. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would like you to check into the Paris situation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I figured you would. I’m already on it.” He grumbled, and pushed past him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On it how?” There were very few things that baffled Batman. Apparently, Jason was one of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“On it as of two weeks ago.” </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>He had only been thinking about it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thinking about </span>
  <em>
    <span>maybe</span>
  </em>
  <span> doing it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Having somewhere other than the miserable Gotham to stay for awhile, maybe a long while, seemed nice. Had to admit it out loud at some time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it wasn’t actually all that serious. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had other things to be doing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like patrolling the world. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taking shit down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helping people. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He should be helping people, not being selfish by thinking about settling down in Paris. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And really?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Paris of all places?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was literally anti-Gotham. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What a terrible place to go. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But then Marinette said someone she knew was getting targeted and that was good enough for him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He finally had a good enough reason to justify going to Paris. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was going to go help. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“TIKKI, Spots on!” She yelled, and ran as her suit formed around her, seconds after coming to a stop. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She used her yoyo as a grappling hook, (It’s original purpose,) and pulled herself up 76 floors. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Spots off to disguise mode B.” She said, and ran up the remaining two flights to Manon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The twelve year old was sitting behind her desk, in her big comfy chair, drinking a juice box.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Marinette!” Manon ran over to her, and hugged her tightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey kiddo are you ok?” She squeezed the kid, and took a second to breath. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on?” Manon asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh shit she doesn’t know. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not sure. I just got here, I don’t know either.” It was a half-truth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t know </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> she was getting targeted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But she needed to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She held the kid close to her, and her phone buzzed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She let it. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey.” Adrien found her with her arms around the small sleeping kid and curled up on a large couch in her office. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Hi darling brother of mine who gave me no fucking information. Lovely to see you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to talk. Max’s here for Manon, we’ll talk… after.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” She mumbled, and sat up to wake up to make up the little kid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She woke up, and started crying. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was just too much. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For all of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” Max walked in, and observed the scene. “Oh goodness.” He sat down on the couch next to them, and Marinette reached for her phone as Manon tried to calm down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had a text from Jason from six hours ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>‘I’m in.’</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, I’ll be by later, I have some things to discuss with you,-” She looked at Manon, “And you.” She redirected her gaze at Max. He nodded. “You and me have a metric shit load of things to discuss.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh god.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I first have to talk to Adrien, and then have some other things to do. Ok?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ok.” Manon mumbled, and followed Max out of the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She wondered how the hell he kept all that hair sticking perfectly straight out the back of his head (think: Pegasus’s hair from the show). </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go.” She looked at Adrien, who knew what that meant. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It started monday afternoon, she did a piece on an app that worked on exposing gang member identities, they told her if she didn’t shut the system down they would make her do it, she refused to back down, they sent her pictures of Manon at school and edited a target over it, Max picked her up from class that day and hasn’t been home since.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nadja’s been moving around for a few days, using different cars each time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are we going to find out-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Been on it. I’ve traced it back to three members in particular.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Moth doesn’t usually stoop so low as to attack kids, is it Blue Bird this time?” She asked, a little weakly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s definitely the Hawks. But yeah, dad doesn't ever stoop so low as to threaten kids. And he usually says if you’re too pussy about it, you shouldn’t be in this shit in the first place.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why he let you go.” She remembered. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t want to choose between them, he didn’t want to choose either of them, so he quit and lived with her all through his time at highschool.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. Why he let me go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think you can contact him, tell him who it is and make them stop?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t want to, but…” There was an unbroken silence as they faced this problem. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I should give you a codename of your own.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t. I stayed out of this for a reason.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” She stood up, and pulled him into a hug. “But I appreciate what you do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you, Mars Bar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I love you too, Triple A.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anytime.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stepped back away from him, and they both had sad looks in their eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“TIKKI, spots on.” She waved as she walked out of ehr office, and jumped over the side of the railing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She slowed her stop as she reached the near bottom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t want to make a Marinette-shaped hole in the canopy of the Starbucks cart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They wouldn’t be good. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She jumped into the tank, and sat in the driver's seat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“TIKKI, bring me Below Level.” The chair sank through the floor, and into a tunnel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They had invaded the abandoned catacombs years ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She took off down the hallway at ridiculous speeds. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
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